


This house doesn't burn down slowly

by suyari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent McCall is back in town and here to stay. With all the weird, he's just a little concerned about his family's living situation. Melissa corrects him. The boys...well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	This house doesn't burn down slowly

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the events of 3a.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

"I don't like that kid."

"You don't _have_ to like him," Melissa replied, setting the plates down on the table with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. "It's not your house. It's mine."

"He has a record! I know kids like him-"

"You don't know anything about him! You don't _want_ to know anything about him! That's your problem. It's always about you and never about anyone else."

"That kid-"

"That kid has a _name_."

"Isaac Lahey." He shrugged at her wary glare. "It's in his file."

"Are you keeping a record of all of Scott's friends now? Planning to try to control him the way you used to try and control me?"

"Melissa-"

"Don't Melissa, me. Don't you dare Melissa me!" She pointed at him, the cutlery in her hand all sharp fork points and steak knives. "This is _my_ house. Where I am raising _my_ family. Isaac is a _good_ kid. If you took the time to get to know him-"

"I don't _need_ to get to know him. I know his type! And I don't want him anywhere near Scott!"

"Well then, you're going to be very unhappy for the foreseable future, because he is not going anywhere." She began to set the table, metal meeting wood with sharp, steady rings. "Isaac is a kind, sweet boy who _adores **your**_ son. He's a loyal and dedicated friend. An earnest, hard worker who is just trying to make due with all the crap life has thrown his way."

He followed the swift, angry motions as Melissa continued to set the table during her tirade.

"He has put up with a lot by worse than you. So you can either be _nice_ and get to know him, _learn_ the kind of person he is - the kind of person Scott trusts and respects. Or you can just walk out that door again. And this time, don't you dare ever come back!"

She didn't give him time to answer, turning away from him and shouting "Boys!" in no clear direction but up. The eerie part of being around the house - aside from the memories, and the fact that his son clearly wanted nothing to do with him - was the fact that for all his training, all his years on the job, he couldn't ever hear the two of them coming. Scott and Isaac seemed to materialize all over the house. There'd be no noise, no warning, they'd suddenly just be there as if they had always been there. Sometimes, there was a handy, though worrisome, ripple up his spine prior to the great reveal. As if he were being watched, and not by something he expected to find in a home. People, he got. People were easy to read, easy to break down and handle. No, the feeling was akin to what he used to feel back on hunting trips as a child. The steady, focused gaze of a predator. A creature who saw you, who knew you, and no matter which way you turned, or how little cover there was, you could never find it.

Teenage boys should make noise, he thought to himself. They should be loud and lumbering and not scare the living hell out of people with their ability to move about a house without the slightest noticeable measure of their presence.

At first, he'd thought they were doing it on purpose. That they were deliberately screwing with him. But the more he was over, the more he realized that it was just an odd, seemingly innate ability that they shared. Stiles, he could hear coming a mile away. But Scott, he barely noticed until he was directly in his line of sight. Isaac - like that night in the Argent's - typically just a few steps to one side, always right behind him. It unnerved him. And what made it worse was that he couldn't figure out _why_.

There was just something about the way Scott and Isaac could have an entire conversation without uttering a single sound. Isaac seemed particularly adept at communicating this way, and while he couldn't find any rhyme or reason in it, Scott seemed to find entire novels worth of information in the slightest flick of blue eyes. Even Melissa could hold conversations with the teen, basing her responses off the movements of his body. She at least used words. But Scott...Scott responded in kind. Body to body. And maybe that was it really.

He'd never given much thought to what he'd do if his son turned out to be gay. Not that there was anything wrong with it; he just wouldn't have a single thing to say to him. All his experiences were with the opposite sex. He imagined bonding with him over the woes of women, the outcome of sports, and the mundane moments of his everyday life. Isaac complicated things in ways he was entirely unprepared for.

He jolted in surprise as Scott came through the doorway. Then again when the chair across the table drew away, Isaac sitting down without him ever having registered his arrival. It made him irritable as he sat down. Melissa said nothing, though he knew she could feel both pairs of eyes on her. When she sat, she held out her hands and each teen slipped one into hers. She gave them each a squeeze, and the tension eased some.

It didn't last.

Scott seemed to radiate displeasure. And prepared as he often tried to be, the levels of hostility his son could exude were striking. The more irritated Scott became with his presence, the lower Isaac's chin dropped, until he was looking over at him from between his shoulders, eyes fierce and unwavering. Scott had every right to be treating him the way he was - even if he thought it a bit extreme, especially given the circumstances - but Isaac didn't know him and had no right to be disrespecting him as intimately as his son. So, he turned to glare back at him.

And realized all too late what a horrible idea it was.

Isaac's stare was all encompassing. Steady and focused, it ensnared his own, holding his eyes unwilling captives in a contest he'd started. The teen didn't blink, didn't move, didn't even seem to breathe. He inhaled sharply, eyes tearing, but knowing instinctively that blinking would be dangerous. He didn't know how long they stared at each other - it felt like hours - but eventually Scott interrupted with a soft, "Isaac."

Those piercing eyes drifted sideways smoothly, head lowering slightly so he looked up at Scott through his lashes. But it was the instantaneous _change_ in them that caught his attention.

Isaac looked at Scott as if he was the beginning and the ending of the world. There was so much devotion, so much adoration, and an eagerness to please him...He knew without knowing that Isaac would do _anything_ Scott asked of him. And in that moment, he wasn't certain which was the greater threat.

Scott pushed up from the table. Isaac mirrored the motion without hesitation. "Thanks for dinner, Mom." He leaned in and kissed her cheek as Isaac rounded the table.

He noticed Melissa didn't reach for the taller teen. She smiled at him, but kept her hands in her lap. Isaac's lips quirked up at one corner for the briefest of moments. The tension draining from his body as Scott slipped an arm around him and leaned into him for a moment.

Whatever Scott said, it was too low for him to hear, but Isaac nodded. Inhaling deeply and releasing it before following him out.

Melissa got up and began clearing the table as the sound of Scott's bike revving in the driveway carried through the house.

"It's ten o'clock."

She ignored him, setting very empty plates into the sink.

"On a school night."

She shrugged. "They're off for dessert. They'll be back."

He stood, clearing the cutlery and glasses, carrying them over to her and setting them in the sink carefully. Melissa went back to the table, removing the serving bowls. He settled back against the countertop, watching her and trying to find the best way to say it. When no way sprung immediately to mind, he asked, "Are they dating?"

"Not yet."

"So they're interested in each other."

She hummed in thought, sponge circling over a dinner plate. "They care about each other. They've been through a lot together. But, I don't think it's reached that point just yet."

"I suppose Allison Argent is a hurdle."

"They're their own hurdle," she replied, then laughed and shook her head.

He couldn't find the humor in it, but it was good to see her smile. "And you're okay with this. Happening under your own roof."

"Better under my roof than out there," she replied, gesturing with her elbow.

"Melissa, be serious."

"I am serious. If Scott and Isaac ever decide that the day has come and they're going to give it a try, I'll be very happy for them."

He raised a curious brow.

"And then I'll glue bells to all their zippers."

They laughed together. He still didn't quite like the idea of Isaac, but the glimpse he'd caught at the table had shown him enough about how the boy felt about his son to relax the tight knot in his chest that told him Scott was in trouble, always. That he wouldn't be safe without him. Because in the deep, unblinking stare of a teenage boy who made no sound when he stepped, he'd seen the ready response clear as day. Scott would always be safe with Isaac.


End file.
